Behind the Camera
by Dallie Alegrita
Summary: Meenah is a backup dancer for 80's music videos. Dirk works behind the camera. An unlikely pair brought together by circumstances of working to the top and working with what they love. But maybe they've found a bonus in all the sleazy showbusiness. Dirk x Meenah. Will probably get nsfw. Trigger warning: sexual harassment (not from Dirk. Or Meenah. Obvs.) T for language as of now!


Dirk was pretty sure he'd seen enough asses in short, tight skirts to last a lifetime. He was well aware that there were some people who would kill for this job but it got boring after the first few videos. He stifled a yawn as he stood behind his camera as the director called for a break. He lazily drooped over the equipment to snag his coffee. The dancers milled around aimlessly. They weren't quite 'celebrity' enough to interact with the band, but they were too famous to talk to mere cameramen. Hollywood. He rolled his eyes. His brother was all about it but he thought it was pretty ridiculous. It was a long convoluted game of who knew who and who had money. He just wanted to fuck around with the equipment and be left alone. One of the dancers seemed to be just as bored and disenchanted as he was feeling. He gave her a small smile and a wave, hoping it didn't come across as creepy seeing as he'd just had a camera trained on her ass for the last twenty minutes.  
>Meenah was about ready to lose her shit. If she had to shake her ass one more time, she might flip. She was the best looking of the dancers, but the only real reason they had placed her toward the front this time was because of her ass. She wanted to rub her eyes, but she knew she couldn't, lest her make up get fucked up and they delay the video, or more likely, get a new dancer. She wasn't that difficult to replace. She took a deep breath as her eyes wandered over to the camera man, managing a smile back. But it was clear her smile was a tired one, and maybe even a little forced. It would take decades before she got her career in the place she wanted it at this rate. She returned the wave, too, looking around. She got dirty looks from the other dancers, mainly because she had been placed at the front this time. And she worked with the same girls regularly, so it seemed, and they hadn't really taken much of a liking to her. She'd never done anything to them, so it was a bit confusing, but she took it in stride anyway, approaching the camera man. "Hey", she smiled, glad to find someone that looked like they didn't want to rip her hair out. They'd insisted she leave it down for the shoot, and it was teased and sprayed, with an overdone luster that still managed to look good. "I'm Meenah."<br>Dirk relaxed a little when the dancer didn't seem to take offence. "Dirk," he responded, extending a hand to her. "How much hairspray did it take to get that to stay? Because damn I'm pretty sure I haven't seen it move once. Not that I can really talk," he gestured to his own ridiculous hairstyle. "But you have a lot more of it and you're dancing. It's like witchcraft or something." He barely paused for breath the entire time, the slew of words coming out as a jumbled mess and he winced. He was basically the opposite of a social butterfly. More like a painfully awkward caterpillar. Maybe one of those kinds that gave you rashes when you touched them. Which was kind of shitty because those kinds looked so delightfully fuzzy and cuddle-able but no. Nasty, itchy rash.  
>She just laughed a little and sipped on her Coke, turning back to Dirk. "Damn right you ain't got no space to talk. Look at that shit. Looks like you cod give these stylists some tips." She grinned and nodded. "Yeah, trust me, this shit ain't moved an inch. I hate when they put this much spray in it. -Eels glubbin' weird." She shrugged and tried to look in his eyes, but his shades blocked her view. "'Sides, the moves ain't that hard today. And they avoided hair flippin' in it too. Honestly though, these bitches don't know what the fuck they're doin'. It takes me forebber to get this shit outta my hair." She smiled, raising an eyebrow. She had caught the wince, but only for a second. Meenah, on the other hand, was better at socializing... for the most part. Until you crossed her. Then you might as well have just skipped the caterpillar and gone straight to the black widow spider, as if that metaphor made any sense.<br>Dirk chuckled. This was good, this was a normal conversation and he could probably keep up. "Nah," he disagreed. "My morning routine is basically flip it upside down, spray the fucking dickens out of it, stand up and cling to the sink for a minute because holy shit headrush, and then good to go. I go through about a can of hairspray a week. It gets expensive but hey that's the price you pay for being ridiculously attractive." He grinned, trying to convey that he was joking. "Try letting the shampoo sit for a couple minutes before you rinse," he suggested. "It basically works by breaking down the molecular structure of the hairspray, as well as making the water molecules smaller so they can rinse it clear better. You have to give it some time to work." He clapped his hand over his mouth and groaned. "I'm sorry, you probably didn't want a science lesson."  
>She just laughed. "Yeah, whale it's a small price to pay for bein' 'ridiculously attractive' huh?", she asked, grinning herself. She couldn't help it. It was contagious. "An' no, I didn't want a science lesson. But I didn't ask for yer mornin' routine neither, an I got that, didn't I? 'Sides. Anyfin to kelp with this bullshit they insist makes my hair look betta." She shrugged and then laughed as he covered his mouth. "Cool it, buoy, it ain't a biggie. Just chill out fo a whale. You're already wave betta to talk to than the otter chumps around here." She motioned over to the band and the other girls she had just been seen dancing with. "Though I can't say I ain't painfully attractive either." She grinned right back and took another sip of her coke.<br>Dirk felt his face heat at that and he hoped to the gods that it wasn't visible. He was pretty sure he was out of luck there, though. His skin was paper-pale and liberally dotted with freckles. When he blushed it was like pouring kool-aid in a white mug. "I just don't know when to shut up in general to be honest," he confessed. "Feel free to be like ay Dirk quit running your mouth my ears are getting tired. I won't be offended." He grinned sheepishly. "Well, uh, if ridiculous attractiveness is a scale, I'm probably around an eight, but you go 'up to eleven.'" He outwardly groaned at that and rubbed his nose in embarrassment. "That was terrible, I'm so sorry," he apologized. Geeze Louise, a tacky one-liner and a movie quote at once? He really needed to stop spending so much time with a certain friend. The movie lines and painful dweeb-ish-ness was apparently contagious.  
>Meenah smiled a little as her new acquaintance's face turned red. Aw. That was fucking cute. Not to say he wasn't hot, either. "No worries, buoy, pike I said. Loosen up a lil bit." She took another sip of her Coke and her eyes widened at his line as she almost spat it out, then erupting in rather loud, obnoxious laughter before she managed to collect herself. "Oh my cod." She grinned and her laughter died down, ignoring the looks she had gotten from others in the studio. They looked at her like she had a third arm while the laughter left her, making a bit more of a scene than she had intended, though she didn't seem to notice. Or if she did notice, she didn't fucking care. "That was probubbly the best thing I've heard all day. Tanks. I think you'd be a little more than an eight, by the way. Efin if you do look like your hair walked right out of a Flock of Seagulls music video." Her full lips parted into another wide smile. "No, no, it's okay. I needed that laugh." She glanced to the clock, noticing she only had about another 5 minutes left of her break.<br>Dirk was a little stunned by the fact that Meenah seemed legitimately amused and grinned slowly. "Well, I can produce dorky lines on command, so let me know anytime you need one," he offered. "And thanks." He touched his hair a little self-consciously. "Should I lose the crazy hair?" he asked hesitantly. He'd never felt weird about it before. But he'd also never talked to someone like Meenah before. She was bold, funny, and gorgeous. A girl like her usually wouldn't give him the time of day. And most of the time he wouldn't give a shit, but she was slipping inside his disinterest radar somehow. He caught the way her eyes flicked over to the clock on the wall. "Want to get burgers or something when we're finished here?" he blurted. It wasn't like him to take the initiative but maybe her boldness was rubbing off.  
>Meenah just smiled. "Nah. I pike it. And I'll be shore to let ya know, buoy." She downed the rest of her coke, savoring the caffeine before tossing out the bottle and turning once more to the Strider. "You know who should lose the crazy hair though?", she asked, gesturing to her own stacked up hair, tucking a bit behind her ear. This boy was different than the other ones she tended to work with. And she liked that, even if he was a little bit shy and awkward. He was handsome and cute all in one, and had her give the most genuine smile she'd managed in days. "Huh? Oh. Shore. I'd love to get burgers or somefin." She nudged him a little as someone smacked her ass. She turned around angrily until she saw who it was. The director. "Come on, chica, it's time to get back to work, ladies!" She tried to say something else to Dirk but the other girls were already beginning to go back into place and she had to go without another word, getting into position.<br>Dirk rubbed the back of his neck, smiling shyly. "Okay, I'll keep it," he said quietly. "You look good even with your hair like that, though." He figured he was probably laying it on a bit thick now, even if he really meant it, and he should really dial it back a little. No one liked a kiss-ass. Well, except for high-level studio execs, and that was just because they expected people to basically worship the ground they walked on and lick their goddamn shoes. Repulsive. This business was dirty and cheap and it sometimes made him feel like an unwilling prostitute. But it paid the bills and let him work with what he loved.  
>He grinned, delighted, when she said she'd join him for burgers, but his expression immediately turned dark when the director assaulted her like that.<br>He took a deep breath and drew on the courage that talking to Meenah had given him. "Just because you're paying them doesn't mean they're your property to do with as you please," he called after the director, his voice faltering a little at the end. The director slowly turned.  
>"If you want me to keep paying <em>you<em>, I suggest you keep your goddamn mouth shut."  
>Dirk flinched and meekly returned to his place behind the camera. He fucking hated Hollywood.<br>Meenah smiled right back. "Only if you want to. It's your hair, you know. You can do waterever you want with it, long as you're behind the camera." She rolled her eyes and gestured toward the director that was coming toward their direction. She may have blushed a bit at his genuine compliment of her hair, but it was lost underneath the make up she wore. She didn't think he was being a kiss ass, only because she could tell how genuine he was being. And it was really kind of charming and cute. But then again, she had to do a fair share of kiss ass and kiss dick to get where she was now, which was still toward the bottom of the musical ladder. When Meenah was dragged away by the arm, her eyes widened at first but she soon just turned, trailing behind him without another glance back toward Dirk.  
>She winced when she heard Dirk call after them. Telling a director what to do was probably the worst thing you could do, especially so low on the spectrum. Meenah quickly nudged the director, whispering something to him that made him grin and turn his attention from what was, to him, a nuisance. She did her best to distract him so he'd forget about the exchange that he had with Dirk, and for the time being, it looked as though she had succeeded. She'd made her first acquaintance, and the last thing she wanted to do was lose it. When the director returned to his chair and called action, Meenah was the most in tune with the music. It was clear she knew what she was doing, even if she was far from being the most famous out of the dancers. It really was her place, to get lost in the music and the groove and forget about whatever it was that was going on in her life at the moment. Which was a lot more than she would like to admit.<br>Dirk quietly seethed with anger for the rest of the shoot. He hated how entitled the directors all acted. They were doing the least amount of work and expected the most respect. It was ridiculous. He suddenly realized that if he wanted, he could become a director eventually. It's where his brother was headed, and if he achieved it first he'd have connections. And then he could make a difference in how the 'little people' were treated in the industry. It was a small comfort but comfort nonetheless. And the first thing he'd do is get Meenah a better job than a backup dancer. She was obviously too good for that. He absently wondered if she could sing. He'd ask her afterward.  
>The rest of the shoot sped by as he mulled things over while he worked. It was kind of a mindless task, he just kept panning his camera back and forth. Afterward he fidgeted anxiously, hoping Meenah still wanted to join him for dinner.<br>Meenah tried to keep her mind off it with her dancing, taking a deep breath when he ordered "CUT!", and it seemed as though the dancers let out a collective sigh of relief. They'd been shooting for much longer than any of them anticipated. Meenah turned from the girls as a few of them approached the director, hoping for a night with him, thinking it would help pave the way for them to get ahead. Meenah had done sleazy things, but she would never stoop so low with that particular pig. She disappeared and got her bag, still in her dancing outfit. It was a two piece that clung to her hips and breasts, as revealing as any other type of outfit one would wear a a backup dancer. She knew nothing of the humble fantasies that went through Dirk's mind as she worked, the moves coming naturally as she got the rush of being in front of the camera. She grabbed her bag and approached Dirk, rubbing the back of her neck for a moment before smiling. "Hey", she greeted, tugging her bag onto her swimmer's shoulders as she spoke. "We still on for tonight?", she asked, putting her hands in her pockets. "If so, I should probubbly go home and try out those science-y tips you gave me to wash this bullshit outta my hair, huh?", she asked with a little laugh, turning her attention upwards to Dirk's eyes. Or, rather, his glasses.  
>Dirk smiled widely as Meenah approached him. "Oh, right," he said. Stupid, he hadn't even thought about that. Of course she wouldn't want to go out looking like that. Granted it wasn't especially abnormal in this area of town, just about every waitress, secretary, and hair stylist was a Hollywood wannabe and they made sure to look the part. It looked ridiculous, of course, but everyone else looked equally ridiculous so it didn't really stand out.<br>"I still want to," he said quietly with a shrug. "So if you wanna... I mean I think you look fine the way you are right now, but I don't mind waiting a while if you want to undo the updo." He chuckled to himself at his pathetic pun.  
>"Whale, if you're shore you wanna stick around, then I guess go ahead an take a seat. I just wanted to make shore you didn't go anemonewhere." She smiled and rolled her eyes at his pun. "Pfft. God you are so fuckin' lame." She nudged him playfully and reached up, taking her hair down so that it fell down around her shoulders and down to her waist. It was full, thick black hair that fell a little into her face. She brushed it out and looked around. "I'd steer clear of the director if I was you. I'm gonna go clean up a lil bit, if you don't mind waitin." She stook his hand and squeezed it, then turned around and strutted off toward the back rooms where the other girls were also dressing down, just to get dressed up again once more.<p> 


End file.
